


It All Began With A Burst

by jubilation



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2150433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jubilation/pseuds/jubilation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shopping with Kise has always been an exercise twofold: patience, for himself, and capacity, for his wallet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Began With A Burst

Shopping with Kise has always been an exercise twofold: patience, for himself, and capacity, for his wallet.

Kasamatsu always tries to refuse, to wiggle out of the excursions with pre-formulated excuses that sound mechanical even to his own ears (with just a tinge of exasperation and a dash more desperation coloring his tone), but they get jumbled somewhere between his brain and his tongue when Kise’s face falls and his eyes fill with put-upon disappointment.

( _“That’s okay, senpai …. I was just hoping we could … but it was silly of me, I guess …”_ )

Kasamatsu knows he’s being played, Kise has always plucked his strings with an easy finesse that leaves Kasamatsu reeling with equal parts disequilibrium and bewilderment (like standing in the wake of a tornado, that’s touched down somewhere in the middle of his chest and thrown everything asunder), and he opens his mouth to refuse again. _This time it’s final_. And he —

finds himself the way he always does, falling into step beside Kise (their footsteps a beat that echoes through his whole body and takes up all the space in his head), with an armful of shopping bags from places he cannot hope to pronounce.

Kise takes his arm and Kasamatsu can feel the touch all the way down to his bones where, if anyone cared to look, he’s sure they’d find Kise’s name branded the same way he’s taken up everything else. He tugs, insistent and demanding in a way that would normally make Kasamatsu lash out or at the very least pull back if he weren’t weighed down by this season’s colors and enough hair products to supply a salon. He turns, opens his mouth to let his words strike where his hands cannot, but the expression on Kise’s face is one of such transparent delight that they sour on his tongue.

“Look, senpai, look,” Kise insists, and Kasamatsu realizes that he’s been staring too long. He looks away abruptly, face warm, and suddenly there is a feather-light touch upon his jaw.

He hears Kise’s concerned, “Senpai?” as though it comes from somewhere far away. The other boy’s gaze upon his own paints his cheeks a color that he knows he won’t be able to feasibly deny later, but Kise’s fingers are suddenly firm upon his jaw.

Kasamatsu drops his gaze to Kise’s lips, forming into words that disappear inside his head.

“Hey. Are you okay? It isn’t too —”

A sudden boldness seizes him and he leans forward, the press of his lips gentle in the way generally reserved for quiet moments just before bed, after knotting Kise’s tie in the morning with an exasperated expression, or the doorway of his apartment when he sees Kise off to another one of his ridiculous photoshoots.

He doesn’t realize he’s dropped the bags until he pulls away to find he’s woven a hand into Kise’s hair.

"You really don’t need three scarves, idiot." He answers in a tone that is decidedly soft, and bends to retrieve the fallen merchandise while Kise crows indignantly around him.

Kasamatsu decides he’s not going to mention that Kise’s painstakingly styled hair is just slightly out of place.


End file.
